The Dwarf Inside the Flask
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: With each step he erased a sin from his being.
1. Homunculus 1: Pride

**A/N:  
**This is a pre-2009 anime fic, based off a hypothetical situation of the birth of the homunculi and written for the seven_sins challenge on lj. The manga might disagree with this, but to be honest I'm only familiar as far as the anime goes, so that's the information I've centered this around.

This is a completed fic, and will be updated every Saturday. I was actually supposed to out the first "chapter" up yesterday, but I forgot.

So enjoy, and tell me what you think.

* * *

**The Dwarf Inside the Flask  
Homunculus 1: Pride**

* * *

**1.**

_Pride unfurled the whip, lashing the tongue and clipping wings feathered and large. Pride brought pain to golden eyes, making one bleed red and the other liquid clear and bitter, leaving salty treks down the face that left a scar long after water itself had evaporated. Pride caused the skin to break and then mend with imperfection, pink and wrinkled and stretched and on occasion blackened around the edges. And pride caused it all to be borne without an outward cry of pain, even when the heart housed agony and bitterness and thoughts of the unfairness of it all._

_Pride was such a pointless thing, unnecessary in the perfect world. Its world._

* * *

The slave dragged his protested body over the tiled floor, a soundless groan escaping his lips. His destination lay beyond: his small refuge from the Emperor and others who milled about with higher heads and broader shoulders. Some had their togas trailing behind them, enjoying the cleanliness other aching hands had provided for them.

He passed a peer still cleaning his portion, hand blurring from the repetitive haste. The rest of them had completed their allotted areas, and it was a small relief, watching the crack of a whip on the other's back: a mark of tardiness and unsatisfaction. Not a sound escaped the other; he simply gritted his teeth and continued his work. It wasn't for fear of punishment; the men who stood tall and cloaked with gold took great pleasure in dealing pain.

And, just as predicted, another lash came down upon his back, staining the dirtied white toga with a line of vibrant red.

The slave kept his gait even, although instinct told him to hasten and retreat to his next task. Already, his back stung with the echo of a lash that had landed…was it that morning? Or maybe yesterday? Or a day he couldn't even place in his life.

* * *

**2.**

_It took the child; the dead fetus from his mother's bath of blood. It was human foolishness that provided it such a convenient vessel. Thinking blood was the key to immortality, that _it_ was the key to immortality._

_Oh, he could do it. The foolish humans were beneath his power. But that immortality would not be for them. Instead, it would be them that would provide that length, that power._

_And its children, not human but above them, with _its_ power…and soon, its blood as well._

_Blood that humans would provide._

_But until then, he bid the slave to open the bottle. Just a bit, for a little while. And in return he gave a little more. Not a name: he had already given that in exchange for trust. A little power would be a fair exchange: knowledge._

_Humans only became more foolish with knowledge and power. And that would in turn empower him._

* * *

'The child lives! The child lives!'

The cry went through the room, before fading and spreading like a rippling wave, latching on to bustling hands and hurrying feet that scurried about the palace, bringing the colour of the blinding sun to the room with the Emperor and his escort wrapped in gold. No slaves were present; the company was unworthy of them, but they scurried about in the halls and floors beyond, their workloads suddenly overflowing.

In the basket, the babe shifted before snuggling into the covers once more. A little spout of black hair shone in the light from the high sun before vanishing under the blanket and being replaced by a pale white hand instead.

And inside its flask, the Homunculus's small balled form twisted into a grinning mouth.

One little display would keep them happy. And nudge things along the path to _its_ end…and theirs.


	2. Homunculus 2: Sloth

**The Dwarf Inside the Flask  
Homunculus 2: Sloth**

* * *

**1.**

_Sloth was such a filthy thing. _

_How could no-one see the bloated fat that pooled around the robes that glittered gold? It was disgusting. Flesh squeezing the metal bands around fingers, the belt around waists –_

_They could feel it. They were unable to walk the distance of their own palace because of the weight of their bodies. _

_However, it changed nothing._

* * *

The Emperor sat at the head of the dining hall as the slaves brought his meal to him. Plates upon plates of steaming foods, the coverings removed as soon as they were carefully placed on the table to reveal neatly cut pieces of bird, or skinned lizard.

Then they left, knowing that the meal that carried hours of hard work would be devoured in mere minutes.

* * *

**2.**

_The bowl had undoubtedly contained fruit at some point, but somebody must have decided that the fruit was far superior than the bowl itself. After all, what did a flask need with an ornament?_

_So it collected dust for a time as it watched the world beyond it. The newly named Van Hohenheim polished it sometimes, but then…_

* * *

'Could you open the flask for me, Van?'

Van Hohenheim blinked. He was still unused to being addressed by his real name, and it showed in the brief pause that came before his reply.

'Open…the flask?'

'Indeed. I wish to attempt something.'

The slave did not understand, but fulfilled the request anyway. He was happy to; the Dwarf Inside the Flask was far kinder than his Masters. It had a good reason for being unable to work itself, and it gave him knowledge in return.

That knowledge seemed, at the time, far more valuable than a roof over his head and enough food in his stomach to sustain him.

And so the Dwarf left the flask and sat in the bowl for a moment, before returning. No-body saw a change…but then, even the slave's quick polishes had not brushed against the sand at the bottom.


	3. Homunculus 3: Envy

**The Dwarf Inside the Flask  
Homunculus 3: Envy**

* * *

**1.**

_Envy. The palace stank of it. It permeated the rooms, passed through the glass. It bloodied the grounds as well, but that was less obvious. Minor scuffles that broke out on occasion in the kitchens or the slaves' quarters._

_It really was a waste of blood._

_But worse came upon the vile wind…_

* * *

The palace was suddenly in a frenzy; the Emperor had been found dead in his bed and nature was ruled out as a cause of death. Whispers flew, until the Doctor found poison in the golden goblet.

And then there were more whispers, riddled with threats and accusations and the occasional slap on the back. Then the perpetrator, disguised in the white toga of the slaves, was dragged upon a platform for all to see and struck until death seized his soul.

And then there were more whispers, hushed, as the royals argued over who was to be the next Emperor.

* * *

**2.**

_It was despicable, how humans argued about the smallest things and did such big things for reasons they often denied to himself. Because, unlike the humans in their ignorance, he knew the secrets of their people. Why the man had killed the Emperor – and it was not as noble as he claimed. For the Emperor gave food to his people and that should have been enough, but others envied his power and wealth, looking only at the trinkets upon his fingers and around his throat and ignoring the shadows that lurked beneath them._

_And they spilt blood, ignoring the value of it. Another subtracted from the whole that could have served it far better than petty jealousy ever could._

* * *

A worm slithered into its chambers one day, no doubt searching for food or respite from the castle's recent noise.

It coaxed it into the little hole of its flask, and then breathed a little power into it.

Only Van Hohenheim later discovered that worm, resting in the discarded bowl. But the Dwarf Inside the Flask claimed loneliness, and the slave left it be.

After all, his Master was another, and there was nothing either of them could do, at the time.


	4. Homunculus 4: Greed

**The Dwarf Inside the Flask  
Homunculus 4: Greed**

* * *

**1.**

_Greed. Humans were full of it. Give them a straw and they would want the entire hay…_

_But it worked to its advantage, so it would not complain this once…_

* * *

'I could give you freedom.'

Van Hohenheim looked up from his cleaning.

'Freedom?' he repeated.

'Yes,' the Dwarf Inside the Flask replied. 'Freedom. To see the world outside. To never answer to another Master. To never feel the whip on your back again or the stinging pain in your muscles from overwork.'

It paused as the message sunk in, before continuing.

'And flowers,' it said enticingly. 'Beautiful flowers, that you could transmutate into wreaths for a woman you desire, and then you can take her as your own. Instead of spending a life forever in these walls, you can breathe the fresh air and grow.'

'But how can you do such a thing?'

'I'll explain.' And the Dwarf Inside the Flask did exactly that. Although Van remained ignorant of the missing details until it was far too late.

* * *

**2.**

_It was the slave that brought the goblet, all gold and glimmering. Taken from the tomb of the old Emperor. And it was the slave that spread panic amongst the people and collected them, slowly, under the guise of treachery and nature's wrath, under its thumb._

_And the time slowly approached…but before that, he put the goblet to its use and expelled the fool that brought the slave so completely under its thumb._

_It seemed that knowledge was not quite as valuable as freedom. An interesting thought. But foolish all the same._

* * *

The people of Xerxes were on edge. Why; they could not say. But they could sense that something big was going to happen. The sun baked them more thoroughly than it ever had. The rain was withheld for longer periods than it ever was, and their crops withered in the harsh heat. And amidst it all, a sickness began to spread.

And with that sickness, other things came. Or went rather. Jewels. Valuable items. They would suddenly vanish from one's home or vault or chamber. The fingers were seldom caught, because the sickness brought about a panic that clouded the sight of many.

But the greedy always made use of such situations to further their own wealth.


	5. Homunculus 5: Gluttony

**The Dwarf Inside the Flask  
Homunculus 5: Gluttony**

* * *

**1.**

_Gluttony. That eternally insatiable hunger. What use was it; there was not enough sustenance on any land to satisfy all that lived upon it._

_There wasn't enough for even one, for the world shrunk as desire grew._

_Foolishness. Human foolishness it was. But it mattered not; _it_ was better than humans, and humans fell under its thumb to assist its quest. It's goal._

_It's goal…and the goal of its children._

* * *

Van Hohenheim scurried about, doing his assigned duties and sneaking in last minute checks in between. His heart pounded in his chest with each step and each shadow made him glance anxiously at the sun.

It was getting closer by the minute, but he was always partially relieved to see the yellow face gazing impassively at the world.

A part of him was afraid; he could not deny that. But he also could not deny that more of him was anxious. The Dwarf Inside the Flask had promised him his freedom today. Had promised to take him out into the world, after having taught him so much…

All he was waiting for was the sun's face to be covered in shadow –

And as he polished the red jewel, it happened. And he dropped his rag and fled down the corridor to the Flask.

* * *

**2.**

_The palace was in chaos. An assortment of things tumbled about as people ran to the main hall in terror._

_To them, an eclipse was something truly terrible – and _it_ was rather amused to see the pandemonium. After all, if they reacted like that when the world turned black, he wondered how they would react before it turned red. It was a shame he wouldn't see._

_And not a moment too soon; he was running out of power. His children were inanimate, save the babe who was barely alive. He needed a Philosopher's stone. And he needed it –_

_Now!_

* * *

And then everything was swallowed in red. A red as vibrant as blood that gave humans their life. A red as strong as the fires that burnt in the forges and as glowing as the rubies that glittered about the palace.

And save Van Hohenheim who stood in the centre of it all, every living soul was swallowed by that red, swimming in the air and amassing within the only warm body that remained.

And the flask shattered, giving rise to a form that mirrored his own, save with a pallor that no sun could allow. And the baby grew, frightenly fast, until a child of eight years stood before him. And the sand morphed into a man, large and strong. The worm into a teen: slender, tall and arrogant. The fruit bowl into a chubby boy of unknown age, a thumb in his mouth. And the cup, the sparkling goblet, became a man with a shark's grin and a greedy glint.

Homunculus. All of them. They were the Homunculi.

And…

'My children…' The mirror image, the Dwarf Inside the Flask, stretched out his hands.

…their father.


	6. Homunculus 6: Wrath

**The Dwarf Inside the Flask  
Homunculus 6: Wrath**

* * *

**1.**

_The Philosopher's Stone was finally complete._

_But it wasn't enough. The world became barren, and while the energy blossomed within him it was not infinite. And even at its peak he could not reopen the Gate of Truth and achieve his Goal._

_One person was not enough. The Philosopher's Stone he had was not enough. He needed more. More of both._

* * *

Van Hohenheim stared in horror at the destruction that was once a palace. The walls had crumbled and caved and sand had washed over the lower reaches. Left behind were cracks in the pieces that remained, jagged edges that rose from the land in a de facto prison.

And in his chest, the souls of hundreds, if not more, cried out in pain and terror…

…and anger.

And his own anger bubbled up, as he realized how cunningly he had been tricked, how easily he had been played.

* * *

**2.**

_Why did the human anger? It was foolish. Futile. Nothing could be accomplished. It changed nothing; the past was set in stone, or sand. The flask was forever broken. The souls were forever sealed._

_In fact, it was impractical to all extents. Because he would gain nothing._

* * *

Van Hohenheim went through the stages of grief and then some. He yelled. Screamed. Cried. And then he left, wandering on foot across the desert with only half his senses. The desert baked his bare feet and exposed shoulders; the white cloth barely protected the lower half of his back.

Many a time he considered returning, surrendering. He may have as well, but the souls in his chest cried insistently. They would not let their deaths be in vain. They would not let their anger and their pain die.

The Dwarf Inside the Flask, now with his new name, went the other way. To a small country…that would become his crown.

And there, he created a new child. One more human than the others, but better, far better, than Van Hohenheim. For it was _its_ blood, its Philosopher's Stone, in the other's veins, and Wrath was born under its complete control.


	7. Homunculus 7: Lust

**The Dwarf Inside the Flask  
Homunculus 7: Lust**

* * *

**1.**

_The live souls pulled him in. The warm blood pounding above the earth was like a flame in eternal darkness, marking a path so that none could stray from it._

_Following was an easy task._

* * *

Hohenheim accepted the flask offered to him.

The men were bewildered by his appearance, but their words fell upon deaf ears. At that point they had no way of knowing the man before them was a survivor from a lost civilization. They had no way of knowing he knew nothing about their language. They had no way of knowing the ramblings were not wild and unfocused, but conversations to the hundreds of souls locked forever within his body.

And they had no way of knowing he had lived beyond the lifespan of an average human by the time their paths crossed.

However, they did know he was in dire need for water and rest, and that they could provide. After all, the desert showed mercy to few people. Even alchemists, who could turn sand into crystals and coax the rivers from beneath the earth, had their limits somewhere.

* * *

**2.**

_The small country lusted for power; it could hear it in their voices, feel it in the heat they emitted. And they would do anything for it._

_That made them weak. And so he took a means to an end. A woman who entered its chamber. And it gave her a small piece of the stone and transformed her. And she became more beautiful than the peasant that had entered, and stronger than the weak woman she had been._

_Unlike with Wrath, it had been an easy process. His first choice had been the perfect one, it appeared._

_Only humans made mistakes after all, and he had rid himself of the last of humanity's weaknesses._

* * *

The seven Homonculi stood in a circle, and above them was their Father. Each different to the eye. Each harboring one of the seven sins. Together the weakness of mankind.

Father smiled, then set them upon the board for a centuries long chess game.


End file.
